Unfurling the Flagg
by Fencerchik721
Summary: Colonel Flagg/Reader, Samuel Flagg/Reader, This is the product of a fevered (literally) imagination. The Reader meets the infamous (and very sexy) Colonel Flagg at the 4077th. This is total trash with a dash of naughty romance and a smattering of witty rejoinders.
1. Chapter 1

Korea in the Fall: When a young woman's thoughts turn to...well, you'll see...

Unfurling the Flagg

Part 1

"I heard a very disturbing rumor that our favorite paranoiac spook is back in town," Hawkeye groused and took a long swill of his coffee.

Trapper and I exchanged a look across the mess table. Trap smirked at my look of confusion. "Ah you mean our resident self-abusing spy?" He laughed and stirred his pile of sloppy scrambled eggs. "I guess that was inevitable, Hawk. I'm surprised he wasn't hiding under the beds when they brought those Korean prisoners in last night."

Hawkeye hummed in amusement. "Maybe he was moonlighting as a nurse. He's got great legs. I'm sure he looks very becoming in stockings and garters."

"Oh absolutely. Great chest too. He fills out a shirt better than most of our nurses."

"Hey now!" I interjected tartly and kicked Trapper lightly under the table.

"Oh but not you, sweetheart," Hawkeye grinned. "You are the exception."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the heartfelt compliment," I smirked. "So are either one of you n'er-do-wells gonna explain what's going on?"

"Allow me to enlighten you, my lovely lieutenant," Hawkeye smiled. "Those Korean prisoners that came in with the MP's last night have obviously caught the attention of our less-than-ethical intelligence community. They're like sharks in the water. The scent of communist blood makes them all come swimming."

"And the head loon of the intelligence nuthouse around here is a CIA guy called Colonel Flagg," Trap chimed. "He's been here a couple times before. Crashed his own helicopter and then broke his own arm. Twice! My buddy at HQ told me he once tried a similar approach to infiltrate CID Intel. He drove his Jeep into a wall and then set himself on fire."

"He's very dedicated," Hawkeye nodded.

I laughed. "You're not serious."

Hawk shook his head. "Don't I wish. Radar told me that Flagg called this morning demanding to talk to Henry. It's only a matter of time before he pops up."

"Or pops off. And no doubt with a bang," Trap quipped.

"Well, he can't take the prisoners without your say so." I shrugged. "You two are the attending physicians."

"Oh believe me we have no intention of signing them away to some one-star torture resort just yet," said Trapper. "Did you see that one kid? He looked like he was about twelve years old. I've got socks older than him."

"And with twice as many holes."

Trap grinned. "What'd ya say, Hawk? Should we make the Colonel's inhumane mission as difficult as humanely possible?"

"Absolutely. Let the spy games begin, my good man."

It turned out that the young prisoner was not a genuine North Korean soldier. A liaison officer lent to us by the South Korean army broke the news to us that afternoon when we arrived in post op.

It turned out that the kid, a baby-faced 15 year old named Kim, was in fact a forced conscript. Captured when his village was raided the previous week, he had been essentially press-ganged into a North Korean battalion. And a bullet wound to his leg had added injury to insult.

"Jesus, Hawk," Trapper sighed. "We can't let Flagg take him. We can't let anybody take him. He wants to be here about as little as we do."

Hawkeye passed me the completed chart. "I hear you, Trap." He sighed. "But we're going have to come up with something quick."

I threw a look over my shoulder to make sure the orderlies were otherwise occupied. I tugged lightly on Hawkeye's collar. "You know...we could get him outta here," I whispered.

"If you've got an idea I'm all ears, Y/N."

"And I'm all hands," Trapper winked.

I elbowed him playfully. "I mean it. It'll take some quick maneuvering though. Sister Theresa is picking up some crates of overstock supplies tonight for the orphanage. If we can get that kid in the truck tonight, we can sneak him out of here."

Hawkeye beamed. "A brilliant idea, my fair lieutenant." He jerked his head to Trap. "I think our prisoner patient may have just mysteriously contracted some kind of rare disease. Don't you think, Trapper?"

Trapper grinned. "Something highly contagious?"

"All the best diseases are."

I had seen to it that Kim's chart notes indicated a sudden spike in fever and a virulent rash popping up all over his abdomen (courtesy of some hastily applied iodine). The orderlies safely secured him in the quarantine ward on the other side of the camp.

The MP's had been severely alarmed by Hawkeye's news that the kid clearly had something catching, and none of them seemed too keen to keep watch over him. Finally one of them grudgingly agreed to keep watch outside the front door of the locked ward. The plan was in motion.

We had just finished making our rounds in post op when Radar came running into the room.

"Excuse me sirs, but Colonel Blake says he needs you sirs in his office. Right away!"

Hawkeye groaned. "Radar tell him I'd love to go away, but I will never ever be right."

Radar looked over his shoulder nervously. "Sirs! it's Colonel Flagg, sirs. He's here," he whispered.

"Uh oh. Sounds like duty calls, boys," I grinned. "Good luck."

"Oh no-no-no, Y/N." Trap said as he pulled on his overcoat. "We may be the attending physicians, but you're our attending nurse. We're gonna need you to back our play."

Henry was sitting at his desk looking haggard when we walked into his office, his fishing hat askew as he massaged his temples.

"Hiya Henry!" Trapper smiled. "Long night?"

"You have no idea. Pierce, McIntyre, you remember Colonel Flagg?" He gestured to a tall man standing at the window with his back to us. The man turned.

And _oh...damn_ he was good looking. He had ruggedly handsome features, dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His uniform was sharp and tailored hinting at a very powerful physique underneath. Broad chest and shoulders, narrow waist, muscular arms. God, even his plush lips looked muscular if such a thing was even possible. His feet were planted squarely in a smugly self-confident stance, his hands on the web belt slung low on his cocked hips. He regarded us imperiously, his chiseled jaw raised.

 _Wow_. I wasn't sure what I had expected upon meeting the infamous Colonel Flagg, but this was most certainly not it. I forced a neutral expression on my face, or else I might have just gaped at him like an idiot. I suppose I had been expecting to meet some kind of wild-eyed maniac. I hadn't expected him to be Colonel Tall-Dark-and-Handsome.

"Doctors," he said curtly in greeting, his voice deep and gravely. "And who is this?" He nodded to me. I had to resist the urge to fidget under his penetrating gaze.

"Oh this is Lt. Y/L/N," Hawkeye said, clapping me lightly on the shoulder. "One of our attending nurses that attends to our attending. She's also our new supply officer. I figured since you were probably here to make off with our penicillin supply again, she better come along to deny your request. She's very forceful," he grinned.

"I'm here about the Korean prisoners of war," Flagg said, his tone clipped. "My colleagues and I will be taking them tomorrow morning."

"Well I'm afraid you can only have three out of four, Colonel," Trapper replied. "One of them has developed serious symptoms of some kind of viral infection." He elbowed me in the side. "Isn't that right, Lt.?"

Flagg's bright blue eyes pinned me to the spot. "Y-yes that's right, sir," I nearly stumbled on the words. "He's under quarantine and we are keeping the others under observation."

Flagg narrowed his eyes skeptically, and then mercifully returned his gaze to Trapper. "This is not up for discussion, Dr. McIntyre. The prisoners have been ours since the moment you patched up them up. They are leaving here tomorrow. If they are not upright, we will carry them out."

"You don't seem to understand, Colonel," Hawkeye countered. "We've got one very sick kid in quarantine. Communist or not, he needs to be treated and we are not going to risk spreading the infection. In case you've forgotten, hospitals have this silly thing called protocol."

Flagg took a heavy step forward, lining up Hawk in his sights. "I'm wise to your tricks, Captain. The CIA supersedes any hospital protocol. Either you have the prisoners ready to transport by morning, or you're going to have a world of trouble here. I can have all of you thrown into jail faster than you can say court martial."

"I try never to say dirty words like that," Hawkeye deadpanned. "They offended my delicate sensibility."

"You have been warned, doctor," Flagg said his voice an octave lower now.

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Henry lamented, clutching his hat. "We're not equipped for this heavy cloak and dagger stuff, Colonel. We're just a hospital!"

"The red crosses on the tents give it away," Hawkeye interjected.

Flagg didn't spare a look at Colonel Blake. He tugged on his web belt, laying a hand lazily on his sidearm. "I expect your full cooperation, Captain. Or I can promise you there will be consequences you can't afford to suffer."

"Now just wait a minute," Hawkeye began hotly.

"Dismissed!" Henry cried in exasperation.

I exchanged a brief look with Hawk and Trap as we turned to leave the office. I felt the heavy weight of Flagg's stare at my back and was quietly relieved when we finally walked out.

The plan worked better than we could have hoped. Flagg's people weren't coming until morning, so the only security we were forced to contend with was the lone MP outside the quarantine ward. And of course Flagg himself.

It was well after midnight when Radar masterfully executed his part of the plan. He summoned Flagg to the clerk's office for a "high priority call" from Washington. That's when we made our move.

Hawk, Trap and I went to make a late night stop at the ward to check on our patient. While Hawk and Trap distracted the MP outside with some small talk, I half-carried the limping boy out through the fortuitously unlocked door at the back of the ward. When he was safely stashed in the back of Sister Theresa's truck, I hightailed it back to the ward and emerged out the front to inform Hawk and Trap loudly that though the kid's vitals were strong, he was still very ill and weak.

"So we're good to go?" Hawkeye whispered once we were out of the MP's earshot.

"Good to go to Tokyo," I sing-songed with a grin. "You think Radar is doing okay?"

"Oh I'm sure he's sweating bullets right about now," Trapped smiled. "That phony call from Washington has gotta seem legit. Shame that the shelling keeps interfering with the phone lines."

"What shelling?"

"Oh, whatever shelling comes up," Hawkeye shrugged. "Or comes down for that matter. It has a habit of doing that pretty frequently, you know?"

I stifled a laugh. "There's going to hell to pay in the morning, isn't there?"

"Don't sweat it, Y/N. I'll have them put it on my tab."

And boy, there certainly was hell to pay in the morning. A shelling would have had less drama.

When Flagg's entourage arrived the next morning, it was quickly discovered that the youngest prisoner was gone. It appeared that he had somehow escaped during the night, but hopefully it wouldn't seem like he had any help.

Within the hour we were inundated with MP's scouring all over camp. Radar looked pale when he rushed in at breakfast to report that Flagg was beside himself with fury.

"He put his fist through my filing cabinet!" he hissed nervously, looking over his shoulder. "He's been reading Colonel Blake the riot act for over an hour."

"Attention!" barked a voice over the PA speakers. "Captains Pierce and McIntyre and Lt. Y/L/N! Report immediately to Colonel Blake's office!"

"Fuck," Trapper sighed. "We knew that was coming. Ready to be water-boarded and have our toenails pulled off one by one?"

"I'll never talk," Hawkeye sat up and puffed out his chest. "Unless they go for the fingernails. I can't stomach a bad manicure."

I rolled my eyes. "This is serious, Hawk."

"I am being serious, Y/N. The last time you saw Kim he was resting uncomfortably, right? They don't need to know it was on a truck headed out of camp."

A jittery, restless tingle was crawling up my spine as we made the walk to Henry's office. We had a lot to hide. We were by all accounts the last people who had laid eyes on Kim. Well, technically I had been the last one to officially lay eyes on Kim. And Flagg had already been deeply suspicious of Hawk's and Trap's intentions from the beginning.

Christ, I was nervous. Nervous about being able to successfully play dumb about how Kim had "escaped", nervous about me and Hawkeye and Trapper and Radar getting into hot water...

And admittedly nervous about seeing the ultimately sexy, but ultimately intimidating Colonel Flagg again. Being under the spotlight of that hard blue stare...

I felt a hot flush rising in my cheeks. I cleared my throat. "I think you should do the talking on this one, Hawk."

"It would be my pleasure, Y/N. I just need you to confirm the details." He cast me a sidelong glance. "Nothing to be nervous about. Just keep in mind that Flagg had every intention of shipping that kid off to the nearest friendly neighborhood torture bunker."

I nodded. That was true. We had done the right thing. Kim didn't deserve to land himself in a prison camp after everything he had been through.

I held my breath as we walked into Henry's office. Henry was dejectedly downing the remnants of what was no doubt a double glass of bourbon. He was flanked by two MP's. _Shit_.

And there was Flagg pacing the room agitatedly like a caged animal. He looked up as we walked in, his eyes alight with barely contained fury.

"Good morning, Colonels," Hawkeye smiled. "What can we do for you?"

Flagg strode towards us. "Where is my prisoner?" he growled.

"Beats me, Colonel." Hawkeye alternately patted the pockets of his shirt and pants. "I could have sworn I still had him."

"Maybe you left him in the pocket of your other pants, Hawk. I lose my wallet like that all the time. Especially when it's time to pay my tab at the officers' club," Trapper quipped.

Flagg fixed Hawk and Trap with a withering look. He gaze slid over me without pausing. "Couple of jokers, huh? I'm told you all were the last to see the prisoner last night. You want to explain to me how such a 'sick' patient slipped out of a locked ward?"

"Apparently he was just well enough to give your MP the slip. Don't give him too hard of a time though. I've heard little prisoners can be very slippery."

"Gentleman!" Flagg barked over his shoulder and the MP's moved to stand behind Hawk and Trap. I was effectively shuttled off to the side. "Pierce and McIntyre, you are hereby placed under arrest."

"Aww jeez," Henry sighed and sunk down in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"You will be sequestered in your quarters until our investigation is complete," Flagg continued. Hawkeye had opened his mouth to protest, but Flagg spoke over him. "And I can promise you, Captains: if I find that you deliberately assisted with a prisoner escape, you will never see daylight again."

Anger quickly replaced my jittery nerves. This draconian bullshit was completely over the top. That kid didn't deserve prison and Hawk and Trap certainly didn't deserve to be arrested. I mean how dare he! How dare Flagg think he had the right to condemn anyone!

"Now just wait a minute!" I yelled hotly. Hawk, Trap and Henry looked over at me in surprise. Even the MP's looked taken aback at my outburst. Flagg raised a brow, fixing me with a guardedly curious look.

"I was the last one to see K-...er that prisoner last night, not the doctors. If anyone is to blame for this, it's me, not them!" I blustered. "I should have checked to make sure he was secure, but in all fairness we had no way of knowing he would escape!"

Flagg stalked towards me, looking every bit like a predatory cat closing in on its prey. He stopped barely a foot away, his bulky frame looming over me. He looked me up and down slowly and I resisted the urge to squirm, anger still boiling in my veins.

He squinted, leveling his gaze. "You're relatively new to this washed-up outfit, isn't that right? I would advise you that you are keeping very poor company, lieutenant." He jerked his chin towards Hawkeye and Trapper. "The kind of company that could earn you a lifetime stay in Leavenworth."

I steeled my nerve, looking right into those hard blue eyes. "Doctor Pierce and Doctor McIntrye are not guilty of anything, Colonel. And who gives you the right to pass judgement, sir?" I asked tartly.

"The United States government," he retorted brusquely.

Henry popped out of his seat. "I'm-I'm sure we can get this all sorted out, Colonel," he babbled placatingly. "I have full confidence in my men-er-my men and woman-er-my staff."

Flagg didn't bother to hazard a glance over his shoulder at Henry, instead keeping me pinned in his gaze. "Heads are going to roll for this, Colonel Blake," he said, his voice coated in quiet menace. "I wouldn't be surprised if this whole infection story was just an elaborate ruse to undermine our mission here."

"Am I going to to be the next person arrested, Colonel Flagg?" I remarked bitingly.

"Mark my words. If I find that you had any part in this ploy, I'll take you down myself."

I smiled coquettishly. "Is that a promise?"

I saw a small muscle tense in his jaw.

Apparently Hawk and Trapper had been stunned into silence by our little tete-a-tete up until this point. Hawk deliberately cleared his throat loudly. "If I can interrupt this heated exchange for a moment, I'd like to point out that this is merely a medical misadventure, Colonel." He shrugged innocently. "It's not our fault that the patient didn't understand that he wasn't allowed to escape."

Flagg spared a brief look in Hawkeye's direction. "Officers, please escort the doctors to their tent." He turned his gaze back to me. "What this is.." he growled, "is a case of deliberate misinformation."

"Deliberate misinformation?" I took a step towards him, boldly closing the small distance between us and leaned my face close enough to his to catch the heady scent of the aftershave on his neck. "C'mon now Colonel," I purred at his ear, "surely the CIA can stomach a little bit of its own medicine."

As I pulled away, I watched in satisfaction as a look of galled shock crossed his grim expression. I flashed him a shameless grin and turned on my heel to walk out of the office, leaving the others to gape after me.

I paid Hawk and Trapper a visit that afternoon after my shift. It seemed they were thoroughly enjoying their detainment, lounging around the tent in their robes with martini glasses in hand.

"So how are things going out in the war theatre?" Hawkeye grinned as he refilled his glass. "No doubt we are sorely missed."

I chuckled as I sat down heavily on Frank's empty bunk. "Smoothly for now. It will be a different story if new wounded start showing up. Then we will have some serious trouble."

Hawkeye's grin widened. "And speaking of trouble: That was quite a show you put on this morning. I did all the talking and you did all the yelling."

I sighed heavily. "I know. I'm sorry-"

"No, no! Are you kidding me? It was great! You had the overzealous colonel in quite a fluster." He raised his brow. "I think I'm sensing some definite tension of the sexual nature between you two. Don't you agree, Trap?"

"Oh come on!" I laughed, though I felt my cheeks heating traitorously.

"Oh definitely," Trapper nodded. "C'mon, Flagg isn't a bad looking guy. You're a beautiful woman, he's a deranged lunatic: it would be a match made in espionage heaven."

"You two are ridiculous."

"Not at all," Hawkeye smiled. "After all what he lacks in personality, he certainly makes up for in brawn. You know Margaret was practically drooling at his bare chest when we set his broken arm last summer."

"Margaret's always been a sucker for powerfully built guys," Trapper remarked. "What she sees in Frank I'll never know."

"Must be his powerfully built ego," Hawkeye quipped.

"Very funny," I grumbled. "Now onto more pressing matters, please. The camp is still swarming with MP's. And no doubt Colonel Flagg and his agents have no intention of leaving until they find some kind of damning evidence."

Hawkeye popped an olive into his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. "You know if we really want to get rid of Flagg, we just need to play his game."

"How's that?"

"We just need to play our own red herring card. It shouldn't be too hard to send him off on some fool's errand if we can convince him that subversiveness is involved."

I was struck with a sudden inspiration. "You know, I've gotta make a trip to Seoul this weekend with some supply requisitions. I'm a relatively new transfer here, right? Plant a seed in the right minds that I'm actually a secret Army G2 agent enroute to Seoul with some kind of classified counter-intelligence report." I laughed. "Or better yet, I'm a secret-G2-communist-sympathizer double-agent."

"Ooh very colorful. A fatal femme fatale," Hawk chuckled.

I nodded. "Just watch. Word of it will get back to Flagg and poof! He'll be off to Seoul searching endlessly for my contact agent who doesn't exist."

"I dunno, Y/N," Trap remarked. "Might be kinda dangerous to float that story. The next time you get outta the shower you might find that your brassiere has been booby trapped."

"You know I think she may be onto something, buddy," Hawk said. "A little good-natured subterfuge never hurt anybody. We could be Flagg-free for weeks. So the question becomes in whose ear do we stick our red herring?"

"Frank's the obvious choice, don't you think?" Trapper answered. "He practically worships the ground Flagg walks on."

Hawk nodded. "Very true. Frank's so red, white and blue he makes me feel green around the gills."

I shrugged off my jacket. "Excellent. This sounds like a plan. Fix me one of those martinis, would you Hawk?"

"Your wish is my command."

"So tell me, Y/N," Trapper grinned. "What happens when you get to Seoul and Flagg pops outta your duffel bag?"

I laughed. "I think I can handle myself, don't you?"

"Or better yet, you should handle Flagg," Hawkeye leered and waggled his brows.

I felt a renewed rush of heat in my cheeks. "What?"

"What better way to compromise a spy than to put him in a very compromising position," he teased.

I scoffed. "Even if I was remotely interested, I seriously doubt he would go for that."

"She might be right, Hawk," Trapper laughed. "I'm sure Flagg's conditioned himself to be immune to the enticement of a beautiful woman."

"But not from our lovely Y/N," Hawkeye said. "I can see it now. It would be like a scene right out of Casablanca. You can be his Ingrid Bergman, Y/N."

I sighed. "You two really are a couple of characters, Hawk."

"Here's looking at you, kid."

Hawkeye and Trapper were given a given a brief reprieve from detainment when a flood of new wounded soldiers arrived the next evening. However after surgery, they were quickly shuttled back to their tent.

Obviously the red herring had been successfully planted. Unless I was becoming a paranoiac myself, I noticed that the other staff seemed to be giving me a wide berth. Only the wonderful Father Mulcahy seemed to be willing to sit by me at meal time. More than once I had walked into a room to find my fellow nurses in whispered conversation. Conversation that suddenly died when I set foot within earshot.

Oh well, that's how it typically goes with a secret. In no time at all, everyone knows about it.

I dropped in on Hawkeye and Trapper the next evening. The party at Le Chateau Swamp was still very much in swing. Trapper was waltzing tenderly around the tent with a broomstick while Hawkeye was dealing out cards to Klinger and Radar.

Hawkeye grinned up at me from his bunk. "Come pull up a stool, it's five card stud."

I pulled up a seat and sat down heavily. Hawkeye and I exchanged a pointed look. "It's okay you can talk in front of Radar and Klinger," he said. "They're sworn to secrecy under pain of death. Or in Klinger's case, pain of re-enlistment."

Radar leaned over. "Is it true ma'am? That you're a spy?" he whispered.

"Don't be ridiculous, Radar," Klinger shook his head, his chandelier earrings swinging. "The 4077th isn't nearly glamorous enough to have our very own spy."

I laughed. "You are the only truly glamorous thing we have, Klinger." He beamed in reply.

"So I take it the word is out about me, huh? Frank must have taken the story hook, line and sinker. How did you do it?"

Hawkeye winked conspiratorially. "I may have insinuated to him that though I consider you a dear personal friend, I'm a little concerned about your political sympathies. That you seem to write a lot of letters to some "pen-pals" in Eastern Europe. I may have also let slip that I've been some wired messages from Army intelligence in your tent."

I raised a brow. "And what would you be doing in my tent?

"A gentleman never tells."

I spent the following day in a state of perpetual distraction. I was strangely self-conscious everywhere I went. And I suppose it wasn't just the fact that so many people were still looking at me sideways. Though he was never anywhere to be seen, I was sure I could feel the weight of Flagg's eyes on me too.

Friday afternoon I collected my signed requisitions from Henry. And when the driver arrived to transport me to Seoul, I made a show of furtively clutching the stack of documents like they were of great importance.

 _Well, here goes nothing_. If anything, I hoped that Hawkeye and Trapper would earn a much more liberal reprieve whilst Flagg was (hopefully) already in Seoul in search of my non-existent contact.

When I arrived in Seoul, I checked in briefly at HQ and was advised that I would meet with the supply commander first thing in the morning. I wasn't too keen on spending the night holed up in a sterile HQ bunk. The driver recommended that I stay at a local tea house called Miss Minji's that offered some upstairs accommodations to visitors like myself. I was a little leary that the "tea house" was actually a brothel, but I was pleasantly surprised to find it otherwise.

The very kind Miss Minji who greeted me as "Lady Joe" showed me to a comfortable little room overlooking the back alley of the street below. I dropped my bag in the tiny little bedroom and opened the doors to the balcony. The bustling noises of the street, the clatter of the passing rickshaws, and the wafting sweet stench of kimchi was actually quite relaxing.

Of course it wasn't until that night that the real fireworks started...

I grabbed a bite to eat in the tea room that evening. It was apparently a very popular place after hours with the local American clientele and it quickly became standing room only. I asked Miss Minji to bring some tea up to my room after dinner.

I had just started unpacking some pajamas from my duffel bag, fully intending to take advantage the small basin tub. After all, finding a place with honest to God running water was a small victory in my book.

"Settling in for the night, Lt.?" drawled a baritone voice from behind me.

My pulse amped and I spun around in shock. And _holy shit_ there was Flagg leaning casually against the rail of the balcony. I guess Trapper was right after all: I had unzipped my duffel and then out he popped.

My heartbeat was hammering a steady rhythm in my ears, but with a monumental effort I played it cool.

"Well good evening, Colonel Flagg. I thought you were still in camp. Are you here to ask me what a girl like me is doing in a place like this?" I teased flippantly.

He swaggered into the room, taking off his hat and tossing it carelessly on a chair like he owned the place. He hummed thoughtfully. "I received some unsettling information about you, Y/N..." he said my name slowly, weighing it on his tongue. "If that is in fact your real name."

 _Oh Christ almighty, what have I gotten myself into?_

I rested my hands on my hips, trying my best to convincingly play the part of a femme fatale. "I don't know where you would get a silly idea like that Colonel. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you came here just to be alone with me."

He halted mid-swagger, clearly not expecting that response. He recovered himself quickly though, narrowing his eyes icily as he moved toward me again, coming to a halt only a breath away. "I've seen your file. It's too squeaky clean to be true."

"I'm so sorry to disappoint you."

"I have information that you are in possession of official documents," he said slowly. "I want them."

"I can't imagine why. They are just supply requisitions," I said simply.

He hummed skeptically. "Likely story. If you won't relinquish the documents, lieutenant...I will have to take them by force."

I raised a brow. "Take them by force?" I smiled sweetly. "If you wanted to play rough Colonel, all you had to do was ask."

I saw the smallest discomfited shift in his stance. "Don't get cute, lieutenant. I'm sorry," he smirked, not looking even fractionally sorry, "but you're sorely mistaken if you think a pretty face will keep you out of prison. Your charms may have worked on other men, but they won't work on me."

"I beg your pardon!" I gaped in offense. I raised my hand with every intention of smacking that cocky smirk off his handsome face. But in an eyeblink he caught my wrist, jerking me into his chest and quickly trapping both of my upper arms in his iron grip.

I struggled fiercely against his hold but he only pulled me tighter into his body, grunting with the effort to hold me fast. I looked up into his eyes. God he was so close, his eyes so terribly blue. He stilled suddenly, his eyes restlessly searching mine.

And just like that something changed, the air between us suddenly became dense and electric. I watched as the self-congratulatory smirk faded from his expression. There was an unreadable look in his deep blue eyes, something heated that made a shiver of desire run up my spine. I became aware of how good it felt to be trapped in his muscular arms, breathing in the heady scent of his aftershave, his hard chest pressed against my breasts. And unless my imagination was playing tricks on me, I was sure that same muscular chest was now beginning to rise and fall with heavy breath.

"So what happens now, Colonel?" I asked more breathily than I had intended. His gaze dropped to my mouth. He swallowed.

"If there's something fishy going on here, then I promise you and your red doctor comrades are sunk," he said softly and there was none of his usual venom in the words.

"Oh well, if I have to go down with the ship I may as well make it memorable..." I murmured.

I snaked my hand up around the back of his neck and pulled his face to mine. And I mean I landed the mother of all kisses on him, crashing my lips to his ferociously hard. He stiffened and as his lips parted in surprise I seized the opportunity to slide my tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss into something moltenly sinful.

He stood frozen, rooted to the spot, but yet (I noted with satisfaction) he didn't pull away. I captured his lower lip in my teeth and nipped it roughly and was rewarded with his sharp intake of breath. I felt his grip on my arms loosen and his hands fell helplessly down to my waist. And I wasn't nearly done, sliding my tongue back between his lips and drinking him in again.

And then as if a switch had been inexplicably flipped, there came a deep rumbling growl from his chest and I felt his once-motionless lips come to life, pressing fiercely back against mine. And oh my could he kiss, twining his tongue hotly against mine and groaning into my mouth.

And in that moment I realized it. I was less and less in control of this increasingly dangerous game. What had once been a semi-innocent plot to coyly toy with the infamous Colonel Flagg had now become something else entirely. I had thrown out the bait, and boy had he taken one helluva bite. And now I felt like I was the one being reeled in, hard and fast. _But god he tasted so good..._

 _And god I wanted him so, soooo badly..._

He was now utterly devouring me and I moaned softly against his plush lips. His hands slid down my waist, grabbing my ass and lifting me up into his arms. I gasped, wrapping my legs around his waist.

He carried me into the bedroom in two quick strides and we tumbled onto the bed. He broke the hot seal of his kiss, lifting his head and meeting my eyes. And god help me he looked so good, his pupils so blown they nearly eclipsed the bright rim of blue in his eyes.

He palmed the side of my face. "Y/N..." he whispered, the word loaded in silent question.

I carded my hands into his hair. "Yes...please..." I begged.

He didn't need any further encouragement. He groaned and raked his mouth down the side of my neck, claiming my throat with hungry feverous kisses.

"Oh god, Colonel..." I moaned.

"Sam," he rasped against my ear. He slid a hand up my throat, cradling my chin. "Sam. Say it," he demanded.

 _And god that voice and that rough command_. I rocked my hips up wantonly into his. And _ohhhhh wow_...I felt the thick solid press of his hard-on digging into me in just the right spot. A rush of wetness practically flooded my panties. "Sam..." I breathed, my voice thick with wanting.

There was a knock at the door. He jerked his head up quickly and my god...He looked so undone, breathing hard, his eyes wide and dark. He expression was so...lost. Like he didn't know how he had gotten here, or how his wits had apparently abandoned him.

I gave him a small reassuring smile and wiggled out from under him to answer the door. When I opened it there was Miss Minji with my tray of tea. Christ almighty, talk about your poor timing! Just as I was quickly pressing some money into her hand, we both jumped at a loud crash and clatter from the street. I whirled around to find...

My room empty. Colonel Flagg...Sam was gone. But where...

 _Oh my god, I think he jumped off the fucking balcony._

I rushed over to the open doors overlooking the back alley, and sure enough there was a scatter of overturned bins and trash littered all over the ground. And Sam was nowhere to be seen. I wasn't sure if I was desperately disappointed or if I wanted to laugh out loud.

"Everything A-ok, Lady Joe?" Miss Minji asked anxiously.

"Yes..." I sighed heavily. "A-ok, Miss Minji."

To be continued?


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

I tossed and turned hopelessly that night. And it wasn't just the fault of the lumpy mattress. A not-so-small part of me was hoping that Colonel Flagg...that Sam...would reappear just as mysteriously as he had disappeared. But alas...I was not that lucky, and my beauty sleep paid the price.

The driver picked me up in the morning and drove me back to HQ. I picked up the supplies without incident and rode shotgun in a heavily loaded supply truck back to camp. I steadfastly refused to admit to myself that my eyes had been wandering the entire time I was at HQ, hoping to catch sight of my runaway spy.

 _Christ, I was being ridiculous. What the hell was I doing pining like a schoolgirl? Yes, I can admit the man is incredibly sexy when he's not acting like a grand inquisitor, but c'mon I barely know him. And yet..._

I did see a side to him last night that I would have never expected. Sam Flagg reckless, uninhibited and passionate. And my what a sight it was...those wide blue-black eyes, those kiss-swollen lips, that hard powerful body pressed against mine. I felt my cheeks burning furiously at the memory and squirmed in my seat as the truck bounced down the rocky roadway.

Hawkeye and Trapper were waiting at the supply tent when we pulled in, looking very pleased with themselves.

"Well, well," I laughed as I climbed out of the cab, "Looks who's footloose and fancy free. How come you two aren't locked up in the swamp?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," Hawkeye smiled. "The entire espionage circus pulled up stakes and hit the road last night."

"You're kidding," I gaped. But sure enough, as I looked around the camp there wasn't a single MP in sight. "That's unbelievable."

"We figured you would have the inside scoop," Trapper said. "All we know is that some uptight captain showed up at the tent last night and told us we were off the hook. Free as birds!"

I shook my head. "I wish I knew what to tell you. I'm as flabbergasted as you are. That's really spooky."

Hawkeye grinned. "And speaking of spooks: So how did things go in Seoul?"

"Yeah about that..," I took a deep steadying breath. "I think I'll need a drink for this story."

Trapper looked to Hawk incredulously. "Y/N is drinking before noon? This must be one whopper of a tale."

"You have no idea, Trap."

We settled in at the swamp and dived into a day-old beaker of gin. After a healthy dose of liquid courage, I gave them the blow by blow of the night beginning with Sam's appearance in my room. I carefully glossed over the steamier aspects of the story, but the ever-increasing look of shock on their faces was evident.

"And when I got up to answer the door," I shrugged, "He apparently jumped off the balcony and was gone."

Hawkeye and Trapper collapsed in howls of raucous laughter and it took several minutes of me threatening physical violence before they recovered themselves.

"It is not funny!" I fumed but damn it all, the ridiculousness was infectious and I couldn't help laughing myself.

"Don't be angry," Hawkeye coughed, wiping tears from his eyes. "I promise we are not laughing at you, Y/N. In fact, I must say I am impressed. Impressed and also incredibly jealous!" He took a long drink of his martini and groaned amusedly. "God help us, we'll never be rid of him now."

"Very funny," I grumbled.

He shook his head. "I'm serious. I hate to break it to you, but I have a feeling the overzealous Colonel may be very taken with you, Y/N. He might be head over heels. Well, right up until he went over the railing and then he was heels over head."

I raised a brow. "That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard, Hawk. Are you kidding me? I literally scared him right out of the window."

"Well what did you expect, Y/N? You unfurled the Flagg! You lured him into an epic lapse of restraint. A four alarm failure of his typical icy exterior!" He grinned and waggled his brows. "You devil, you!"

"I gotta say, I am amazed," Trapped grinned. "Who knew that the accidental agent was really such a red hot lover? But hey, cut the guy a break. I'm sure he's a mess right now. He can't decide if he wants to arrest you or make sweet spy love to you."

At this, Hawkeye collapsed into his bunk in another peal of laughter.

I groaned. "God, I hate you both."

We were inundated with wounded for the next three days. The hours in O.R. seemed endless and by the end of the third evening, we were all dead on our feet.

I fell in step with Hawk and Trap as we trudged out of post op. "Care to join me for some coffee, boys?"

Hawkeye grinned tiredly. "Absolutely. But not by the cup, I think I need it in an IV drip."

Trapper laughed. "I think that can be arranged, Hawk. After all we got the greatest nurse in the war on our side." He draped an arm around my neck playfully. "At least until her secret comrades in Eastern Europe come to collect her back, right?"

"Ugh," I sighed, "you know I'm never gonna live that story down. Nearly everybody in camp is still avoiding me like the plague thanks to you two."

"Aw relax, it's only been a few days" Hawkeye smiled. "Soon it'll be old news. This war has given everybody the attention spans of your common housefly. Before long they'll move on to the latest and greatest manure."

Frank Burns came bustling towards the mess tent as we were walking up.

"Hiya Frank," Trapper said sweetly.

Frank skidded to halt and spun around. "You don't scare me one bit!" he snapped and pushed through the door.

I laughed. "One of these days you'll have to explain to me how you damaged that man, boys."

"Oh it's not our fault," Hawkeye said as he held the door open for me. "He arrived damaged. We tried to mail him back home for a refund, but his ego wouldn't fit in the box."

We all got a mug of sludge that was somehow labeled as coffee and sat at a table at the back of the tent. And boy it was nice just to take a moment to decompress. In all the madness of the last few days, it was a welcome relief to be able to sit and chat aimlessly with the guys.

I had to admit that in the few spare moments I had bouncing from surgery to surgery, my thoughts kept drifting back to Sam. _God that utterly sexy, utterly maniacal man_. I purposely shoved aside the vision of his handsome face in my mind.

 _No dammit! I'm going to sit here and relax and focus on anything but bloody wounds, endless broken bodies, and the oh so delicious Colonel Flagg._

But of course that moment of relaxation was soon utterly fucking annihilated.

Radar burst into the mess tent like a house afire and made a beeline for our table. "Sirs, I need to talk to you," he gasped. "It's important!"

Hawkeye lowered his mug in surprise as Radar bent over to catch his breath. "What is it, Lassie? Did Timmy fall into the well?"

Radar looked over his shoulder. Frank had sat up in his seat across the tent, looking over in interest. Radar leaned closer. "Flagg!" he hissed in a whisper, "He's back!"

My head snapped up. "Flagg?"

Hawkeye cast me a glance. "Careful now, Y/N. You'll give yourself whiplash," he grinned.

"He just showed up in the Colonel's office," Radar continued in a rush. "But Flagg isn't Flagg, sirs. He's Captain Perkins now. He's got glasses and everything."

Trapper elbowed me. "Oh god this is serious, Y/N. You see what you did? You've sent him spiraling into another identity."

I gaped in outrage and kicked him under the table.

"Behave now children," Hawkeye chuckled. "So what's the story, Radar?"

"I dunno," Radar whispered, glancing over at Frank again. "It's on the QT. Some kind of secret mission. Nobody's supposed to know he's here. Even Colonel Blake's not supposed to know, and he met with him."

"But of course you know it, Radar. We can always count on you and your trusty stethoscope to play doctor with Henry's door."

Radar smiled sheepishly.

"Well kids, let's go see Henry," Hawkeye shrugged. "Wow, this is like a great cheap novel," he grinned. "I can't wait to see what happens next."

"Wait a sec, Hawk," Trapper interrupted. "We don't know where Flagg's hiding now under the cover of darkness. Did you see where he went, Radar?"

"No, sir. One minute he was there and then he was gone."

"He's very good at evasive maneuvers," Hawkeye said seriously. "Just ask Y/N. She's had some recent experience."

"Oh god.." I groaned into my coffee cup.

Frank sidled up to our table importantly, shoving his hands into his pockets "Something wrong, Corporal O'Reilly?" he asked keenly.

Radar straightened up quickly. "No-no, sir. I was just letting the Captains and Lt. know that Colonel Blake is in his office."

Frank sniffed skeptically. "And why would you feel the need to tell them that the Colonel is in his office?"

"Just in case they need to see him, sir," Radar said quickly. "I had to let them know he was in, in case he went out and wouldn't be in again, sir. If he went out, he wouldn't be in if they go out to see if he's in, sir."

I stifled a giggle at Frank's confused expression. That's our Radar, the master of double speak.

"Now just what kind of idiot do you think I am, Corporal?" Frank barked hotly.

"I wouldn't know unless you told me, sir." Radar said simply and then bustled away again.

"That's right, I..." Frank sputtered and then paused, comprehension dawning on his face. "Hey wait a minute!"

"Leave him alone, Frank," Hawkeye said lazily. "He's just reaching puberty, you know. It's made him very sassy. His mother and I are beside ourselves with worry."

"Oh hooey-balooey!" Frank spat.

"Frank! Language!" Trapper gasped in mock offense.

Frank glared daggers at us before marching away in a huff.

I sighed. "Will the madness never end?"

Hawkeye shook his head. "I certainly hope not. And now that your love-struck spy is back, I think it's only going to get more interesting," he grinned.

We waited about an hour before we set off to Henry's office in the event Frank was still nosily lurking in the area. We made our way stealthily across camp and Jesus, you could smell the bourbon before we even walked in Henry's door. We found Henry face-down on his desk, glass still in hand.

"Oh god, poor man," I sighed. "This past week has been really rough on him."

"Nah, Henry's a trooper," Trapper remarked. "And besides this is his usual Friday night entertainment."

"Trap, it's Tuesday."

He shrugged. "So he's getting an early start."

"C'mon now, Henry," Hawkeye sang as he heaved the Colonel upright. "Wakey wakey, the war's still on, you know."

Henry opened his eyes blearily and smiled. "Is that you, Soon-Li? I've been waiting on you, my little buttercup."

Hawkeye shot me a bemused look. "You see that?He only uses my pet name when he wants something. What does Flagg call you, Y/N?"

I glared at him and he smiled shamelessly. "C'mon Henry, we need to talk to you."

Henry looked confusedly at him. "Hawk, what are you doing here? Did you see Soon-Li? She was just here," he slurred.

"Buttercup said she'd be back later," Trapper laughed. "Listen Henry, we wanna know what Flagg was doing here earlier."

"Ugh! Flagg..." Henry groaned. "Won't that man just leave us alone? He's giving ulcers to my ulcers."

"We know, Henry we know," Hawk said placatingly. "We want to know why he was here tonight. What's Flagg up to?"

"Shhhhh!" Henry hissed loudly and covered the top of his glass with his hand. Hawk, Trap and I looked around the room perplexedly.

"Henry, what are you doing?"

He looked down at the glass seriously. "It might be miked," he hissed again.

"Microphones in the booze?" Trapper smirked. "Well that's certainly where I'd put them. The truth always comes out in the liquor, right?"

Henry stood up suddenly, lurching wildly on his feet. Hawkeye caught his arm before he took a nosedive into the desk.

"I don't know any Colonel Flagg!" Henry announced loudly to the room. "And even if I did, he was never here!" He smiled and nodded satisfactorily...

And then his eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled.

"Jesus!" Hawkeye yelled as Henry nearly pulled him down with him. "Trap, give me a hand!"

Trap and I rushed over to help Hawkeye safely plant Henry back in his chair. Henry's head was lolling in his neck.

Radar peeked into the room. "Is it safe in there, sirs?"

"Nobody here but us chickens," Hawkeye said glibly. "And one very drunk junior bird," he tapped the brass insignia on Henry's hat.

Radar slipped inside. "Aw geez, is the Colonel going to be okay, sirs?"

"He'll be fine, Radar," Hawkeye said. "As long as nobody lights a match in here. I think his breath is 100 proof right now."

Radar bent down and slapped Henry lightly on the cheeks. "Sir, it's Radar, sir. Hawkeye came to ask you about Colonel Flagg...er, Captain Perkins, sir."

Henry cracked open his eyes. "That you, Radar? Take a memo: from now on my office is hereby ordered to stop spinning." He giggled. "I'll never get any work done."

"It's alright Henry," Hawkeye patted him on the shoulder. "You never do any work in here anyway."

Henry's brow furrowed, his eyes sliding out of focus. "Yeah, that's right. Radar take another memo: no more memos in this office!"

"Yes, sir. Right away sir," Radar said fidgeting uncomfortably. "But about Captain Perkins..."

"Perkins," Henry slurred. "You know that guy looks just like Colonel Flagg? Something around the eyes..."

"Figures," Hawkeye sighed. "Radar, let's pour the Colonel into bed, shall we?"

After safely stowing Henry in his quarters, Hawkeye, Trapper and I crept back across camp to the swamp. Hawkeye collapsed heavily into his bunk while Trapper fired up the still.

"So what do you think?" I asked Hawk as I slipped off my coat.

"That war is hell."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm being serious."

"So am I," he shrugged innocently. "All this mayhem is just symptomatic, you know."

"Oh really?" I laughed as I sat down next to him. "Symptomatic of what?"

"That war is hell and it's made us all crazy," Trapper smirked. "Drinks, boys and girls?"

"Yes, please," we both intoned.

"It's only natural," Hawk continued. "Human beings are not supposed to be exposed to round-the-clock destruction and devastation. After a while, we all get a little loony."

"That's right," Trapper nodded as he passed me a glass. "Classic battle fatigue. It effects everyone differently. In Henry's case it's affecting his liver. In Flagg's case it's clearly affecting his eyes. He sees communists and subversives everywhere."

"Oh come on," I smirked.

"Now, now," Hawkeye grinned. "No need to jump to your buttercup's defense."

My cheeks flared with heat. "He is not my buttercup," I scoffed.

"Well, he certainly isn't mine. Is he yours, Trap?"

Trapper shook his head. "Nah, not me. I'm not his type. I've heard he prefers hot little nurses with questionable political sympathies."

I rolled my eyes. "What a sweet sentiment. But seriously guys, Henry's not going to survive another visit from the intelligence brigade. What are we going to do?"

"Not we. You!" Trapper smiled. "You gotta be the one to nip the Flagg in the bud. The poor guy is cracked! Wound so tight he spins like a top! This is all your fault, you know. I think the man is crazy for you, but he doesn't know what do about it."

I hummed skeptically. "Maybe you two just have overactive imaginations."

But even as the words came out of my mouth, I knew they weren't true. The memories rose involuntarily into my mind. The taste of Sam's fiercely passionate kiss, the compellingly lost look in his deep blue eyes, his deep rumbling groans...

I felt the heat in my cheeks flare worse than ever.

"Don't be coy, my little medical minx," Hawkeye leered. "He's definitely got it bad. There's only one way to cure him. I recommend a prescription of some serious TLC, a liberal application of lips, heavy dose of heavy petting, and an injection of..."

"I think I get the idea!" I interrupted loudly, my cheeks burning furiously now.

"He's got a serious problem and only you can fix it," Trapper nodded. "After all you're a nurse, Y/N. You're sworn by oath and duty to kiss it and make it better."

It was getting late by the time I made my way back to my tent. God I was a nervous wreck, even with two martinis in me. _What was Sam doing back here again? Did it really have anything to do with me?_ Of course part of me wanted to believe what Hawk and Trap were saying, but I wasn't completely convinced.

 _But Jesus, what if it's true..._

From everything I knew or was told about Colonel Sam Flagg, he was a cold, unyielding, and dispassionate man. But the man I saw that night in Seoul, my god, that had been someone completely different. Maybe it was true, maybe Sam really was just a battle-scarred lunatic who forgot how to be human somewhere along the war. Maybe our little tryst in Seoul had revealed something in him that was long repressed and clawing to get out. My, my that was a very compelling concept.

I sighed with reminiscence. _What I wouldn't give to be trapped in that tight embrace again..._

I walked into my tent and turned on the desk lamp on my side table. And oh hell, I had left one of the small flaps on the side of my tent open to let in some fresh air that morning, but now all it was doing was letting in a cold draft.

I walked over to roll it back down and then stopped.

 _Oh god, Sam could be out there somewhere watching me right now!_

The thought was slightly alarming, and also admittedly more than a little exciting. I smiled to myself with a sudden and salacious inspiration.

I took off my coat and tossed it over my chair. I made a very long, very deliberate show of getting undressed. And I mean I pulled out all the stops: from stretching provocatively to pull my undershirt over my head, to running my hands through hair and rubbing my neck and throat, to slowly shimmying my pants over my hips and down my legs. I even bent over low at the waist and arched my back while I was unlacing my boots. I was tempted to put on a much naughtier show than just undressing, but I didn't want to press my luck in case any patrol guards came strolling by.

After a completely unnecessary stroll around the room in my lacy bra and panties, I slipped on my silk robe, tying it low on my waist to leave an ample amount of cleavage exposed. I was thoroughly enjoying myself but I had to resist the urge to prance too smugly around the tent. If he was indeed out there watching, I certainly didn't want him to know that I knew he was watching.

 _But if he knows that I know that he knows...Oh god I'm starting to sound like Radar._

"Evening, lieutenant!" came a jovial voice from outside. I startled, whirling around and nearly tripping over my own two feet.

And there was Klinger standing outside the tent, rifle in hand and dressed in a very elaborate blue evening gown.

"Evening, Klinger," I smiled. "I see you're on security duty tonight. Aren't you going to be cold in that outfit?"

He shrugged. "I was just on my way back to my tent to get my fur stole. Hey, that's a beautiful ensemble you've got on there, do you know if it comes in an extra large size?"

I laughed. "Thank you, Klinger. Yeah, I'm sure it does. The Ladies Lace mail order catalog."

"Oh good, I just got that one yesterday. Well goodnight, ma'am."

"Goodnight, Klinger."

I sighed. _Jesus, Y/N you're being ridiculous. You're making a fool of yourself and he probably isn't even out there. Now get dressed before you catch pneumonia._

In the morning, I showered and dressed quickly. I had no doubt that whatever was brewing today, it was very good odds that I would see Sam again. A daunting but also very exciting prospect. And yet I refused to admit that I paid special attention to my hair and makeup as I got dressed. And hey, if I dabbed on a little extra perfume that was just an incidental necessity, right?

I made my way over to post op to check in on the patients before breakfast. When I pushed open the door, I found Hawkeye and Trapper still in their robes talking lowly to Radar in the corner of the room.

Hawkeye looked over and flashed me a gleeful smile. "Oh good morning, Y/N. You're just in time. Tell her, Radar."

Radar shuffled his feet, nervously fingering his clipboard. "Er, the Captain Perkins that wasn't officially here last night is here officially this morning ma'am. He's in the Colonel's Office wishing to speak to you and the Captains."

"Quick, Y/N. Go slip into something more subversive," Hawkeye grinned. "Preferably something tight, skimpy and low-cut."

I shot him a dirty look before turning back to Radar. "Where's Henry?"

"Um, the Colonel is still in his tent, ma'am. He's a little indisposed this morning."

Trapper guffawed. "Just a little touch of the malted barley flu."

Hawkeye nodded, "A little hair of the Wild Turkey that bit him, and he'll be right as rain again." He gave me a once-over. "Looking very lovely today, Y/N. Got a hot date this morning?"

"If not, she sure does now," Trapper grinned. "C'mon, let's not leave the Captain-Colonel Flagg waiting. If we don't hurry he might become somebody else by the time we get there."

to be continued... ;)


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

My heart was trying it's best to beat right out of my chest as we walked to Henry's office. I was fiercely battling the urge to fidget and had to settle for tucking a stray hair behind my ear and smoothing down a wrinkle in my uniform shirt.

Hawkeye gave me a sideways glance and grinned. "Ready to face lover-boy? I'm sure he's just as nervous as you are."

"I am not nervous," I huffed.

"Of course not. And I'm Harry Truman."

I steeled my nerve as we made our way into the clerk's office, slowing a pace and allowing Hawk and Trap to move ahead of me. I held my breath as Hawk pushed opened Henry's door...

 _And god_...there was Sam standing behind Henry's desk, looking completely and unfairly poised. And as completely and unfairly gorgeous as ever. That familiar domineering, John Wayne stance with his hands in his hips, fingers splayed over his sidearm, chest thrust out. He wore that same deliciously taut and tailored uniform, but now with captain's bars and a pair of black-rimmed glasses, like a Clark Kent in olive drab. There was a healing cut just over his right eyebrow and a scuff on his chin.

He lifted his chin haughtily as we walked in, shifting his weight rigidly and fixing us with a glacial glare. _God, he looks just as good as I remember._ I took a deep breath and _oh my_ that lovely, thoroughly masculine scent of his aftershave hit my lungs. _Hmmm...unless I was mistaken he had put on a extra splash or two or four this morning..._

"Oh look, Buddy Holly is in town," Hawkeye smiled beatifically at him in greeting. "Too bad I left my autograph book back at home."

"I see you've got some new beauty marks there, Colonel Flagg," Trapper chimed. "Had a recent fall?"

"Oh, the Colonel never falls..." Hawkeye winked in my direction, "...he jumps."

Sam eyed Hawkeye and Trapper disdainfully. I noticed he deliberately avoided meeting my eyes. "It's not Colonel Flagg. It's Captain Perkins now," he drawled.

"Our apologies sir, you look just like our favorite masochistic mole," Trapper mused. "What can we do for you, Captain?"

"I have orders to wrap up this matter with the missing prisoner," he said tersely, taking measured steps towards us. "And you two clowns are only temporarily off the hook because I can't prove what you did."

Trapper turned to Hawk in bemused confusion. "What did we do?"

Hawkeye shrugged. "Beats me. But I hope you'll tell me when you find out. I'd hate to be the last to know."

Sam grimaced, rolling his jaw like he was chewing the inside of his cheek. "Still a couple of cutie pies."

"And don't forget about Y/N," Hawkeye smiled, nudging me forward with his elbow. "She twice as cute and sweet as sugar."

 _Oh god, I wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole._

Sam's eyes darkened behind his glasses, but he didn't look in my direction. "We still have a North Korean escapee on the loose, doctors," he barked jabbing a finger in Hawk's direction.

"You escaped reality, Flagg! But nobody's looking for you," Hawkeye cast me a quick glance, "Or are they?" he hummed meaningfully.

"Now I'm only going to say this once," Sam growled. "There's been something very shady going on in this busted-up outfit. I will find out what it is. And when I do, you are all going to have a snoot full of trouble, you read me?"

"Aww c'mon Colonel," Trap groaned. "There ain't a damn thing going on here 'cept the war. We're too busy to be up to anything else. We're at the front! Three miles from the action!"

"Of course I've heard some of us are a little closer to the action than others," Hawkeye grinned, nudging me forward again with his elbow.

That particular barb seemed to strike a nerve. Sam drew himself to his full height, his body tense and seeming to hum with fury.

"I'm compiling a full report on this rag-tag operation you've got here," he snapped, whipping off his glasses. "And I can promise that every last dirty red detail is going in your file!"

"If you're captured will you have to eat it?" Hawkeye asked seriously.

Trapper raised a brow. "Don't be ridiculous. How would he find room with all the undigested microfilm?"

I was beginning to lose my patience. It was maddening standing there like some kind of decorative ornament while the men went back and forth. Sam was tongue-lashing Hawk and Trap like I wasn't even there, purposefully ignoring my presence, but why? _Why the hell had he summoned me here with them in the first place? What kind of game was he playing?_

"Mark my words," Sam continued. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this, doctors. And when I do it's not going to be pretty."

"Still wanting to play rough, Colonel?" I interjected smoothly.

He did look at me then. There was something unreadable in the wide crystal blue of his eyes... _and oh my_...I watched transfixed as that hard blue gaze weakened, shifted into something assailable and unguarded. It hooked into my gut and dragged me in like a magnetic force. I felt myself moving closer to him like I was bewitched and watched him step closer to meet me.

I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"I don't play," he said growled quietly, and god that low baritone timbre shot directly from my ears to my core melting everything in between. That same molten voice that had rasped those demanding words in my ear: _Sam. Say it._

My breath seemed to have escaped me. I felt frozen on the spot, lost in those deep cobalt blue pools, restless heat crawling up the back of my neck, drowning in his delicious scent. I dragged my voice out of my throat with supreme effort. "Neither do I," I breathed.

His gaze dropped to my mouth and I watched him unconsciously lick his lower lip. His eyes flicked back to mine, and god they seemed to flame with some directionless violent want. He swallowed again. "Don't you..." he murmured, "Y/N?"

My stomach turned over. I wanted his voice in my ear around my name, I wanted him whispering each syllable against the pulse in my neck, low and hot and soft. God, he was so tantalizingly close. I can't even describe the compulsion I felt to kiss him, to taste him, to consume him. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my lips and it made my mouth water traitorously. I felt myself swaying closer to him.

I heard Hawkeye's voice as if from far away. "We'll just leave you crazy kids to talk, shall we?"

And just like that the spell was broken, I watched the haze of heat lift quickly from Sam's eyes to be replaced by a flash of panicked anger. He took a jerking step back, his muscles of his body coiled with suppressed motion. His jaw tensed into a hard line.

"I have my orders," he spat coldly to Hawkeye and Trapper. "And it's only a matter of time until I have what I need to make this case. Get your bags packed for Leavenworth, gentlemen!" He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, nearly knocking Hawk and Trap over in the route.

I released a breath I didn't realize I had been holding and turned to Hawkeye and Trapper.

Trap raised a brow. "I think your patient is taking a turn for the worst, Y/N."

"Yeah..." I whispered, not even sure what I was agreeing with. Trapper elbowed Hawkeye in the side and they both exchanged a meaningful look and laughed.

I collected myself quickly and cleared my throat. "What?"

"You alright there, lieutenant? Your bedroom eyes are showing," Trapper teased.

"Very funny."

"At least you're doing better than Flagg," Hawk shrugged. "His bedroom everything is showing. He's practically bursting his brass."

I sighed. "So what can I do about it?"

He grinned. "I think it's time for a more drastic medical intervention, nurse."

Sam didn't make another appearance after the drama in Henry's office that morning. Not all morning, not all afternoon. A scattered batch of wounded showed up after lunch, and it was a welcome but brief distraction. I knew Sam was still here somewhere...

Hawkeye was right, it was time for a more drastic approach, but I was completely unsure how to proceed.

As a female in a predominantly male war, I was used to men flirting or coming on to me. I had even been boldly propositioned a couple of times. I had never had to _chase_ a man before. But then again Sam wasn't just any man. He was cagey, eccentric, and apparently as skittish as a wild horse.

But by god, I was absolutely determined to saddle him.

Hawk and Trap had decided to make it a pajama poker night at the swamp. And I had decided to hedge my bets.

The last time I was in Tokyo I had purchased a very scandalous little lingerie set. A sexy black lace and silk camisole that accentuated my bust nicely, with tiny little matching panties and barely there shorts. It had been essentially collecting dust in my foot locker, and what better opportunity to break it out.

Of course I wasn't crazy enough to prance around the swamp in it. I was planning on concealing it under my silk robe. But hey, it couldn't hurt to be prepared in case Sam made another appearance tonight, right? After his display in the office this morning, I had the gut feeling that another rendezvous was imminent.

Imminent even if I had to make it happen.

 _Sam. My god._ He was so hard and guarded but there was a distinct vulnerability about him. Perhaps a vulnerability that was locked so tightly away he couldn't even begin to find a key even if he wanted to. I think he wanted to find it though, even if he didn't know it yet. I was determined to help him to that. My reasons were a little selfish I suppose, but I couldn't help it.

I wanted him. Badly.

The pajama poker night was a rousing success. The guys had long since chased Frank off to Margaret's tent for the night. Henry had recovered enough from the previous evening to join us, along with Radar, Klinger, and a handful of other personnel. With Dorsey and Sinatra on the radio, moonshine gin, and some much needed carousing, it should have been easy to relax.

But it wasn't.

I was on hyper alert. Every sound that came from outside the tent snared my attention away from the party. I knew in my gut that Sam had to be out there somewhere. Several times I thought back to last night, parading around my tent in my underwear, putting on a personal peep show for the one man whose company I couldn't seem to keep. And each time I thought about it, my cheeks would heat imagining that he had been watching me, hoping that every provocative move had tortured him, a little naughty payback for leaving me high and dry in Seoul.

People started filtering out just before the midnight movie at the mess tent. Soon it was just me and Hawk and Trap lazily playing a hand of cards at the table.

"You know you're no fun when you're pining, Y/N," Hawkeye remarked out of nowhere.

I smirked. "You're wrong."

Trapper grinned. "So you don't admit it?"

I looked up from my cards and raised a brow. "No, I'm always fun."

Hawk chuckled. "Very true. So tell me, what's it like to have a maniac so obviously in love with you?"

I hummed. "Gee, I wouldn't know. I guess you'll have to let me know when you fall in love with me."

"Touché. But I wouldn't dare. I haven't got anything on Flagg," he grinned. "He's handsome, stacked, charming as a snake, and more paranoid than Hoover himself."

Trapper laughed. "Sounds dreamy."

There was a soft snap and furtive crackle of sound from outside the tent. All three of us froze and looked at each other meaningfully.

Trapper raised his brows. "You don't think..."

Hawkeye grinned. "Oh yes, I absolutely do. Another drink I think."

There came a loud metallic clatter from outside and we all jumped. And Jesus, it sounded like someone had knocked over a pyramid of tin cans, boxes and god knows what else.

Hawkeye sat up in his chair with an ear-to-ear smile and opened his mouth to speak.

"Hey guys," I interrupted, speaking loudly and clearly. "The still is looking a little lean. Why don't I uh...run over to the supply tent and see if I can find you another bag of rice." I winked and they grinned back at me.

"Are you sure?" Hawkeye teased, his eyes alight with mischief. "We probably have enough gin to last us through the night."

"Oh, it's no trouble," I smiled. "It would be a pleasure."

I snuck over to the supply tent as stealthily as possible. Thankfully it seemed that most people were already in bed or at the movie. I crept into the supply tent as quietly as my slippered feet could carry me and closed the door behind me. I switched on one of the small lanterns near the door.

And waited.

I knew where to find the extra rice bags, but of course that wasn't my real goal. I dithered for several minutes wandering through the stacks of shelves and crates. There was an old clerks desk near the back wall. I started rummaging aimlessly through the drawers, wondering how much longer I should loiter about. I was starting to feel very silly until...

"Looking for something, lieutenant?"

My heart flung itself up into my throat. Mmmm...that lovely deep voice was exactly what I had been hoping to hear.

I smiled to myself and turned around slowly. And there he was, would-be-casually leaning back against a stack of crates, square shouldered, straight backed, his arms crossed over his chest. The glasses and captain's bars were apparently gone for the moment, and god he looked as delectable as ever. He sauntered towards me with that bombastic strut, his gaze cool and aloof as he took off his hat, shoving it lazily into his back pocket.

 _Ahhh I see._ This wasn't Sam the hot-blooded passionate lover. "Sam the lover" had apparently been put under lock and key. This was Colonel Flagg, unyielding, self-aggrandizing and smug. But there was something...off. The lift of his chin was a bit too proud, his gait too cocksure. He was overplaying his hand, wearing that persona like armor. Perhaps Sam the lover was closer to the surface than it seemed...

 _Well then, two can play at this game..._

"So it's 'lieutenant' now?" I pouted. "Whatever happened to calling me Y/N? I liked that so much better."

He smirked darkly. "You worked me over pretty good in Seoul. I don't intend to let that happen again."

"Worked you over?" I raised a brow. "Is that what you think? On the contrary. I was very sorry that you left. I was very much enjoying..." I smiled. "...your company." I sat down on the top of the old clerks desk, crossing my legs, hooking one knee over the other so that my robe slid up and revealed my long bare legs.

He jerked his gaze away, shifting discomfitedly on his feet.

"The war is a cold and lonely thing, you know," I continued. "Don't you ever get lonely, Sam?"

His eyes snapped back to mine. "Negative," he responded tersely.

I bit my lip coquettishly. "I don't think that's true. Tell me something, Sam," I pushed off of the desk and sashayed towards him. "What does it take to get close to you?"

He shifted again, his hands moved to his web belt and he clenched it unconsciously. "Close?" He laughed humorlessly. 'Close' is a liability," he said slowly. "But I'm not here to talk about that, lieutenant. I want to know what really happened to my prisoner."

"He escaped, _Colonel_ ," I teased, emphasizing his title. "I know you want to uncover some suspicious plot here, but you won't find anything. There's nothing to be found. And I hate to break it to you, but I'm no spy."

He hummed dubiously, smug smirk in place.

I smiled. "Why don't we talk about what you really want..."

"And what is that?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

"The same thing that I want."

"What is it that you want?"

"I want to be yours, Sam," I said softly.

That was when I finally got a genuine, visceral reaction. He froze, his eyes widening and his lips parting as if his voice was caught in his throat, ensnared on a reply that never came.

I decided to press my advantage, crowding closer into his personal space, and looking up at him through my lashes. I reached for the tie to my robe and began to loosen the knot, his eyes tracking my movements raptly. I watched his blue gaze flare with heat as I pulled apart my robe and dropped it beside me on the floor to reveal my thin little camisole top and silk shorts. Even in the chill of the room, my skin prickled warmly under the hot weight of his eyes. They roved hungrily over my form as if memorizing every curve.

"Isn't that what you'd like, Sam? To make me yours?"

He swallowed thickly, his chest beginning to rise and fall heavily. He said nothing but I could almost see his resolve slipping away, spilling and sifting through him with every labored breath.

I reached up and gingerly palmed the side of his face and neck, half expecting him to move out of reach, to escape, to rear up like a wild stallion. He stiffened, his jaw tightening into a hard line. "Oh Sam," I sighed. "You're so tense, wound so tight. You need some relief." I smiled, lowering my voice to a whisper. "What I wouldn't give to be able to give you that relief."

That small muscle was twitching in his jaw. The muscular cords of his neck stood out so tensely, and I could feel his pulse thundering under my palm. That blue penetrating gaze was so fogged, messy with veiled panic and some kind of pleading, aimless longing that it made me ache inside.

"I don't..." he breathed, his voice a low and strained whisper, "I can't..." He swallowed hard. "You're a suspect in an investigation..."

I pressed closer to him so that we stood chest to chest and I wasn't sure if the pounding I could feel against my ribs was his heart or mine. I was immersed in that heady virile scent of his aftershave and I wanted to taste it on his skin. I leaned in, brushing my lips against his chin, the corner of his mouth, the edge of his cheekbone, the healing scrape on his jaw, and dragging my mouth up to his ear. His hands dropped from his belt, clenching on air, trembling like he was chilled, but I could feel great waves of heat coming from his body, like he was on fire from resisting me, from withstanding our close proximity.

"Suspect or not, you've got me," I breathed at his ear. "And now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?" I caught the bottom of his earlobe in my teeth and tugged gently.

A soft groan escaped his lips. "Oh god, General MacArthur give me strength..." he whispered helplessly.

I smiled, resisting the urge to laugh. "The General can't help you now, Sam," I purred, meeting his eyes again. I splayed my hands on his abdomen, running them up his chest and carding my fingers up into the back of his scalp. "It's just you and me."

He was breathing heavily now, unwilling or unable to conceal it. I could taste his breath on my lips, and god I wanted all of it, all of him so badly I couldn't fucking stand it anymore. I wanted to watch him lose control, I wanted to be blown over by it, swept away.

I breathed softly all over his mouth, intentionally, deliberately. He weakened against me as I dipped so close to the perfect peak of his lips, plush and parted and sucking me in reflexively as I exhaled.

"Sam," I whispered, and he made a terrible, feral noise in response, grimacing with a white flash of teeth. He squeezed his eyes shut, whining lowly through his gritted teeth like a wounded animal in a way that made my stomach flood with a wild nameless heat.

"Shhh..."I soothed softly, palming the side of his face again, brushing my fingertips over the healing cut on his brow. He opened his eyes...

 _And my god,_ he was looking at me with something almost threatening in those eyes, blue glass flashing blue fire. He was radiating something so hot and dangerous, it made me feel dizzy, drunk with desire.

The air is between us felt too charged, pulled too tightly. The threat of snapping lingered over us like the fog, thick and stifling.

"Please Sam," I murmured over his lips, "please let me give you what you need."

And just like that the dam broke. Spectacularly.

He lunged into me so fast I had no time to react, yanking me fiercely tight into his arms and crashing his lips to mine. And god his kiss was like a flash flood. So much rage, frustration, relief and such heat pouring into me, his breath in tatters as he licked my lips apart, drinking me in like he was dying of thirst. And my god I had never been kissed like that, so starved, needy and desperately wild. I was stunned, so overwhelmed that all I could do was clasp my fingers behind his neck and hang on for dear life.

His heavy palms were wide and hungry as they mauled over my body, frantically grabbing whatever he could reach. My neck, my breasts, my waist, my ass, like he couldn't decide what he wanted first.

Eventually he anchored a fist into my hair, holding me fast as he kissed me so deeply and desperately, his other hand gripping a handful of my ass and dragging me, crushing me against him as he groaned brokenly into my lips. I felt the press of his... _oh wow_...rock hard erection digging into my stomach. The warmth in my belly shot directly to my core and flooded my sexy little lace panties alarmingly fast.

And I knew in that moment there was no running away this time, no hurtling over balconies. He didn't want to stop, he didn't even want to stop to breathe.

His wild hungry mouth raked down my neck and across my jaw, his stubble scouring my throat. It was so fucking rough and perfect and before the sting could even set in, he was seeking my mouth and devouring me again. _My god he tasted so fucking good._

"God...Sam..." I gasped in a breathy rush.

He released the handful of my hair and brought his hand up to grip my chin. He broke the hot seal of his kiss with a breathless pant. "You knew I watching last night, didn't you?" he accused hotly.

My eyes fluttered open just long enough to see how _broken_ he looked as he thumbed roughly across my lower lip and I thought: _My god. This is Sam. This is him, stripped of all his decorum and cavalier bravado, this is him bare and wild and passionate and achingly beautiful._

I swallowed, dizzy and hot-cheeked and well aware that I was nowhere near in control of this increasingly delicate game. "Answer me," he snarled.

Something short circuited inside me, my stomach igniting with a fierce wave of arousal. "Yes," I gasped, "I was hoping you were. Did you like what you saw, Sam?"

"I've wanted you from the first moment I saw you. I want you so goddamn bad it hurts," he growled, his voice rough and quavering. And god it was too much, too raw and honest a confession.

In an eyeblink I was upon him again, fiercely silencing that gut-wrenching words, that deliciously low and shuddering voice with my mouth. He groaned into my lips and his hands flew to the small of my back, clutching me against his chest as his lips and tongue warred against mine.

He was pressing me backwards until we slammed noisily into the desk. I felt the edge bite into my lower back, the pain signal misfiring and ratcheting my lust up a few more impossible notches. In a clumsy, grappling blur of hands and limbs he lifted me effortlessly up onto the desktop. My calf hung up on his holster, and in a heartbeat he was yanking off his web belt, his sidearm falling to the floor in a clatter. Now unencumbered his body surged up against me, a thick solid thigh rending my own apart.

His kiss was so fierce and filthy, and I was desperate for the taste, the heat and terror of it. He shifted down my body very deliberately, grinding the hard line of his cock into my thigh, and holy fuck I wanted him so badly. _But my god this, just this._ Kissing him deep, his lips so plush and slick and swollen, his tongue slipping in alongside mine so hot and molten, god it just felt like sex.

I needed more, I wanted his skin. I grabbed at his shirt, tugging it roughly from his waistband and sliding my hands underneath. He wore no undershirt under his uniform and my hands hungrily luxuriated in the feel of his warm, muscular torso. I felt him shudder under my palms. He felt breakable and I wanted that too, to break him, to feel him shatter against me.

I pulled my hands out from under his shirt and started yanking at the buttons. "Wait," he panted against my mouth. "We should go-"

"I don't want to wait," I whispered. He opened his eyes, so dark and fogged with lust.

"I want you now, Sam." I arched into him, fitting our bodies together more closely, listening to his breath hitch as I ground up against the solid weight of his erection.

He didn't need any further encouragement. I watched mesmerized as he jerked open the buttons of his shirt and shrugged it off. _And my god..._

He had never looked so good than he did in that moment, those wide blown pupils, the dark flush over his cheekbones. His tan muscular torso was covered in scars. Pale jagged gashes on his broad chest, faded bruises on his abdomen, dark shiny burns on his arms, and they all looked absolutely delicious. I wanted to fix my mouth over each and every one of then. The wide expanse of his chest was dusted with dark hair that trailed down the lithe planes of his abdomen and disappeared into his waistband and oh god that mouth-watering hard-on was tenting his trousers, straining against the canvas of his pants.

I grabbed a handful of his dog tags and dragged him forcefully back down to me. He made fists into the back of my camisole and then he was pulling it roughly over my head and off, his hot mouth latching onto my neck, my throat, and then sinking his teeth into my shoulder. The room was cold but god his body was broiling against me.

He grazed his mouth lower, feverous and hungry and I cried out with pleasure as he tongued one taut nipple into his mouth suckling hard. I raked my fingers into his hair, tugging at his scalp and he groaned ferally, moving to my other breast and claiming it with his mouth.

He slid his hand into my shorts. I felt that powerful hand gliding over my panties, kneading into my trembling flesh. I wiggled my hips impatiently. "Please touch me Sam," I whispered breathlessly.

He pushed aside the gossamer fabric with his thumb and groaned deeply at the discovery that I was already soaking wet. His fingertips slid through my slick folds and then he was sinking one long thick finger into me, the heel of his hand grinding over my clit. I arched into him with a high sharp cry and he swallowed the sound with another scorching kiss.

I moaned inarticulately against his mouth, buckling under the way he was touching me. My hands were flexing, searching wildly for anything to grab onto, the wall, the desk, the ruin of his hair. I needed to hold onto something because it was just too fucking good to bear, too good to stand, too good to survive.

My god I was dripping wet. I felt that thick marvelous finger hook up, stroking my g-spot firmly. I jerked in his embrace and gripped his hair tightly. And-oh fuck he liked that-he began to devour my lips in earnest, sliding another finger inside me and thrusting slowly.

I was completely overwrought, my legs trembling like mad. I felt an ever-tightening tension deep in my core, like a wire being wound tauter and tauter. He released my lips, watching me intently. My eyes were fluttering, trying to roll back, but I didn't want to lose the way Sam was looking at me. He was watching me so raptly, eyes aglow with something like awe as I writhed and shuddered, his mouth hovering so close to mine, giving me breath as I gasped and panted.

I was falling apart against him, writhing against the granite thigh he'd pushed between my legs, rutting into his hand. Moaning, pleading, my mind an incoherent haze of "please, oh god, please" punctuated only by his name.

"That's it, sweetheart," he crooned. "I want to see it. I want to watch you come for me."

I was so lost in the relentless grind of his palm into my clit, his hot breath on my mouth, and those miraculous fingers sliding tightly within me. Suddenly the tightening wire in my core broke violently as my vision whited out, my orgasm slamming into me like a freight train, merciless and devastating. I arched up into his unrelenting grip, clamping down on his thrusting fingers and crying out his name, a scream breaking into a sob of relief.

His hand slowed but he continued to palm my pussy gently, riding me out to the furthest extent of my orgasm. My legs were trembling feebly as I gasped for breath. His eyes were glowing with heated pride as he slowly dragged his fingers out of me. I watched, utterly enthralled as he sucked his glistening fingers into his mouth.

"So sweet, Y/N..." he growled darkly. And then he was claiming my mouth in a rough searing kiss, and I could taste myself on the sheen of his lips.

"God...Sam..." I rasped weakly into his mouth. My core was pulsing hungrily and the press of his cock was so hot from the thin barrier of his pants like deliverance just out of reach. My hands were shaking with want as I reached for his belt, pulling fiercely at the buckle.

His razor thin composure seemed utterly shattered. He moaned against my lips and began frantically working open his belt. As he popped the last button of his fly, I slid my hand hungrily inside and _holy fuck_ he was so hot and hard in my hand. His hips bucked into my touch a strangled moan escaping his lips.

And my god he was so thick I could barely wrap my fingers around his girth, but wrap them I did, squeezing and sliding my hand up his length. He made a noise like choked ecstasy, swaying like his knees were buckling, and planting a hand on the desk to steady himself.

I brought my knees up swiftly, pressing my feet down on his hips and shoving down his pants and boxers to pool around his knees. He pulled away from my grasp just long enough to hook his fingers into my shorts and panties and whisk them down off my legs. I twined my trembling legs around his waist and nearly sobbed with relief as I felt him rubbing his throbbing cock between my soaking folds. His fiery eyes raked over me and god I can only imagine the picture I was, a flushed, panting, wanton mess.

He groaned deeply. "God you're so fucking gorgeous, Y/N," he breathed. "You're supposed to be spread out like this for me, sweetheart. You should be mine."

"Yes," I gasped, a needy impatient whimper on the back of my throat. "Please make me yours, Sam...god I need you inside me."

His heated gaze became absolutely incandescent and he kissed me savagely, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. His length slid down until it was prodding into me, sinking in ever so slightly and spearing me open around its swollen head.

And then he was pressing forward with a possessive growl, his blunt cock parting my clinging walls, and god I was soaking wet but he felt so incredibly thick. I cried out, my fingertips digging into the sinewy muscles of his back. He pushed relentlessly deeper, stretching me with a delicious sting, and then my god he was hitting bottom.

He stilled inside me, shuddering with restraint. "Fuuuuuck..." he hissed rapturously, his voice low and strained. "Y/N...god sweetheart, you're so fucking tight."

I moaned deliriously, rocking my hips up into his and willing him impossibly deeper. I had never felt so utterly full and it felt _so utterly fucking good_. "Please Sam...oh god please...please," I pleaded, the words falling from my lips and into the night before I could think, before I could even try to stop myself from begging.

An appreciative growl rumbled from his chest, as if he loved how quickly I became unhinged with his length inside me. "Tell me what you want baby," he whispered, his voice thin and wrecked, "god anything...anything you want."

I wanted more, I wanted everything: I wanted him stripped in my bed and begging for me, I wanted to ride him, I wanted to take him in my mouth, I wanted to taste his cum, I wanted the weight of him bearing down on my back, I wanted to feel him come inside me- _My god_ I had never craved something as utterly reckless as that with any man before, but god this man had reduced me to a panting mess of primal instinctive desires.

I met his eyes. The blue depths were dark with a desperate, breathless torment. I gripped a handful of his hair tightly, rocking my hips up into his. "Please Sam," I keened softly. "please fuck me..."

He pulled back almost completely withdrawing and then slammed back into me with a merciless snap of his hips. I cried out wordlessly, releasing his hair and clutching at the solid mass of his muscular shoulders. He swallowed my agonized moan of ecstasy with another passionate kiss. It was a delicious mix of pain and pleasure as he began relentlessly pounding into me.

His thrusts were so hard and brutal and graceless, my hips grasped tightly in his iron grip. The joints of the desk were screaming in protest and I didn't care, didn't care if the whole thing collapsed, if I had bruises in the morning, if I lived to see morning at all. Holy fuck he felt so fucking good. I felt my legs beginning to tremble again as my orgasm began coiling inside me.

He trailed hot open-mouthed kisses over my chin and down my neck. His teeth scraped across the my throat, my collarbone, my shoulder. Between the fierce bites and savage kisses, there was his plush mouth broken over mine with ragged unintelligible groans. I was aware of nothing but the sharp stings and the smoldering sweetness, and the slick drag of his cock inside me.

He groaned through clenched teeth. "You're mine," he rasped, pinning me with that molten hot gaze. "Say it," he demanded. "Tell me you belong to me."

My god the expression on his face was so beautifully tormented with pleasure. The intensity of his gaze was irresistible. I could barely hold on to my sanity; I was coming apart under him, shuddering, shattering into fragments. "M' yours..." I whined helplessly. "I'm yours, Sam!"

He made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sob, kissing me rough and greedily. He was so hard and thick and throbbing that I could tell he wasn't going to last, the violent rhythm of his strokes becoming more and more urgent.

I was so overwhelmed, lost in a sea of incredible sensation. And-oh god-his low wrecked groans and the incessant plunge of his cock inside me careened me over the edge. "Fuck! Sam...please don't stop...OH GOD SAM!" My climax slammed into me suddenly and brutally hard. I cried out his name, my vision blurring in a haze of stars. It felt like my whole body was seizing, clenching around him so tightly he couldn't help the harsh bestial cry that wrenched from his chest.

I clawed my nails viciously hard down his back and he arched into me with an animal guttural sound, his hips frantic and pounding into me with abandon. And then he was pulling out of me, taking that thick cock in hand and coming hard with a strangled roar. I watched utterly enraptured as ribbon after ribbon of hot thick cum splashed over my stomach and breasts.

He collapsed onto me, his lips diving back to mine in another scorching kiss. I sighed into his mouth as he pulled me tightly to his chest. I felt the slick smear of his cum between us and reveled in the decadent sensation, the way he fit into my hands, hard rippling muscle and skin sticky with sweat.

His crushing weight felt so perfect, so solid and warm and protective. I could feel his heartbeat drumming powerfully through his chest. His muscles were still convulsing as he rode the aftershocks of whatever on earth I had just done to him. And god I wasn't even sure what that was. I was too overwhelmed, everything felt so raw-agonizing as an open wound, sweeter than salvation, too much and not enough and all at once exactly what I wanted. I luxuriated in the feeling. I trailed my fingertips delicately down the bloody ruin of his back and felt him shudder warmly with pleasure.

He lifted his chin, brushing his lips under my jaw, kissing me softly behind my ear. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against my skin. "Unbearably fucking beautiful. I haven't been able to think of anything else."

"God I know the feeling." I breathed, dragging my nails gently through his hair, and he groaned contentedly. I brushed my lips against his ear. "You don't still think I'm a spy, do you Sam?" I teased breathlessly.

He laughed, the sound enticingly gruff and hoarse. He lifted his head and met my gaze. And god I was stunned by the raw emotion in his deep blue eyes. He smiled. A genuine honest to god smile, and it looked so lovely on his handsome face.

"No, sweetheart," he whispered with a low laugh. "I don't think anything could be so bad that looks so good..." His eyes drifted closed and dragged his lips over mine. "Tastes so good..." He kissed me softly. "Feels so good..."

I giggled and wrapped my arms around his neck languidly. "I'm glad to hear I'm finally off the hook."

He opened his eyes and they glinted with a mischievous heat. "Oh I'm not nearly finishing interrogating you, Y/N..." he growled.

I bit my lip and smiled. "Is that so?"

"It is. Let me take you to bed, baby." His voice dropped to a molten whisper. "Meet me back in your tent. I want to have you again." He kissed me softly, running his hand through my hair. "And again, and again."

"Oh my," I murmured against his lips. "Mmmm...I think that can be arranged. Though we should probably find a towel and get dressed first, Sam. Otherwise we'll cause quite a stir with the patrol guards."

I felt him smile against my mouth and nip my lower lip gently.

I woke up just before dawn to Sam kissing me softly on the forehead. We were lying in a tangle in my bed. And god I had never been so warm and comfortable in that small ridiculous bunk. And I don't think I had ever woken up so decadently sore.

I had wanted him to ravish me ten ways from Sunday, and boy had I gotten my wish. It ran the entire gamut from rough and frantic to slow and tender, and everything in between. Riding him into my mattress, him bending me over my vanity table, pressing me up against my uniform locker. I discovered that he could do absolutely miraculous things with his tongue, how much he loved having his hair pulled while he feasted between my legs, how wild he became watching me swallow him down as deeply as I could.

I was amazed by the way he felt, amazed that I had apparently awakened such a ravenous appetite in him, amazed by his damn near inhuman power of recuperation. I was thunderstruck, stunned that I'd hadn't dreamed the last several hours. I mean my god, I had never experienced anything so raw and absolving and overwhelming. Sure I had lovers in the past but this...I had never had this with a man before. It wasn't sex, it was making love like an exorcism.

I snuggled into his chest and he nuzzled his face into my hair. "I have to report back to HQ this morning," he murmured with a groan. "I really don't want to go, sweetheart."

I smiled, running my fingertips through the soft expanse of his chest hair. "I wish you could stay too. You wasted far too much time running from me these last couple of days, Sam."

A laugh rumbled up from his chest. "I did no such thing, I was..." He paused. "...conducting surveillance."

I lifted my head and raised a playful brow. "Oh really? And what exactly did you surveil during this covert operation?"

He hummed, his hands wandering under the sheet to grab my ass and pull me tighter into his embrace. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he whispered, brushing his lips over mine. "It required intense and intimate observation. And the next thing I knew, I was completely compromised and she had me wrapped around her finger."

I gasped in mock dismay and laughed. "Why Colonel, what would General MacArthur say?"

"To hell with MacArthur. Let him get his own girl," he rasped and captured my lips with his.

We kissed and kissed for what felt like hours, soft and languid, rough and hungry, and then melting back into tenderness again. I knew the camp would start stirring when the sun came up, so I finally and reluctantly escaped out of his arms long enough to put on my robe.

It took several more minutes than necessary to help him get dressed in his hopelessly wrinkled uniform. But despite his frequent gropes under my robe and stolen kisses, I unfortunately succeeded. I walked him to the door and opened it to find the sun beginning to break from the hills.

He stopped and turned, pulling me into his arms and I giggled. "Sam, somebody will see!" I admonished playfully.

"I don't care," he whispered, brushing his lips over mine. "When can I see you again, Y/N?"

"Well, I have a feeling more seditious behavior may be popping up around here," I teased. "Perhaps you should make another visit soon, Sam."

He smiled. "I'd like that. And I have a feeling you'll be needing more supplies in Seoul soon too."

"Is that right? Sam, I hope you're not planning on making off with anything," I purred.

He hummed. "Mmmm...I'd like to make off with you, sweetheart." He smiled, those bright blue eyes simmering. "In the meantime perhaps I'll just take that supply desk. I've suddenly become very fond of it."

I returned his smile. "So have I. I might just move it into my tent as a keepsake."

He chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. "I need to make a few calls. Will you come see me off later?"

"Of course." I kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth and he leaned into the touch, pulling me tighter into his arms.

"I really don't want to leave, sweetheart," he whispered. He palmed the side of my face softly. And god his gaze was so earnest and sincere, it gave me warm shivers down my back. He was looking at me so sweetly like I was all he wanted, all he had been wanting since he learned how to want.

"I wish you didn't have to go," I smiled, kissing him softly again. "I hope we can get together again very soon, Sam."

"We'd better." He growled and kissed me slowly, deeply, an unspoken promise in the gentle drag of his lips. "I want to make you mine again," he whispered.

"Mmmm..." I giggled, pressing my hands into his back pockets and squeezing his ass playfully. "I'm already yours, Sam."

He smiled, his smoldering blue gaze glittering warmly. "Then I'm a lucky man, sweetheart."

I took my time meandering over to the showers and getting dressed. I was marvelously sore and lip-swollen and hair-mussed, but my god I was in such a wonderful blissful daze.

I kept picturing that gorgeous expression of pure torturous pleasure on Sam's face, the raw intensity of his eyes, remembering those breathless groans and sweet soul-shuddering kisses. _And god those incredible sounds he makes when he comes_...

My, my what a glorious morning it was. Who knew an afterglow could last for so many hours?

I breezed into the mess tent to find Hawk and Trap at a table waiting for me with ridiculous expectant grins on their faces. "Well good morning, Y/N," Hawkeye leered. "We missed you last night."

I walked over and sat down a little more gingerly than I would ever admit. "Yeah," I smiled. "Sorry about that. I...uh...got a little sidetracked."

"Oh, we know," Trapper smirked mysteriously.

"Oh you do, do you?" I laughed.

"Things got pretty hot and heavy in the supply tent, huh?" Hawk teased. "From the noises inside, I'd say you found what you were looking for, am I right?"

My mouth fell open. "How did you know-"

Trapper shrugged innocently though his eyes were alight with mischief. "We just checked to make sure you were okay, that's all."

I gaped. "Oh my god..."

Hawk winked. "Don't fret, darling. As soon as we saw the Colonel's pants around his ankles, and your lovely legs around his waist, we left. Honest!"

"You've got a great body by the way," Trapper smiled.

"And certainly Radar's old desk will never be the same," Hawkeye grinned.

My cheeks flared with heat. "Oh my god," I repeated.

Hawkeye chuckled gleefully. "Don't be embarrassed! We're both very happy for you. You crazy kids were in desperate need of some serious tension relief. I'm just impressed that it lasted all night."

I scowled but I couldn't help the smile that curled at the corner of my lips. "And just how would you know that? Another well-intentioned chaperone peek in my tent?"

"Nah, that wasn't necessary," Trap grinned. "We just heard the action. You know, the bombs bursting in air."

"The what?"

"Of course," Hawk smiled. "The bombs bursting in air gave proof through the night that our Flagg was still there," he sang.

I laughed. "You two are absolutely incorrigible!"

"And absolutely jealous," he winked again.

Radar came bustling into the mess tent and over to our table. "Sirs! Colonel...er...Captain...uh Colonel Flagg's leaving, sirs. He came in and told Colonel Blake that his investigation is closed! And then he was calling a driver to come get him. I don't understand. He was acting so strange." He shook his head in disbelief, lowering his voice. "I think something is wrong with him."

Hawk raised a mirthful brow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Do you know he told me good morning?!" Radar giggled incredulously. "And then know what he did after? You'll never guess, he smiled!"

Hawk turned to me and gaped in playful shock. "What did you do to him?!"

I smiled. "Everything and anything I could," I sighed nostalgically.

Radar furrowed his brow. "Ma'am?"

Hawk and Trap exploded into laughter at Radar's confused expression. "I promise I'll explain when you get older, Radar," Hawk chuckled. "C'mon kids, let's go see Colonel Casanova off. No doubt he's waiting on his lovely lady."

"I think I can handle this on my own, boys," I smirked. "You two have done more than enough 'chaperoning' for me, don't you think?"

"Are you kidding? We wouldn't miss this for the world. Who doesn't love an emotional parting? It worked for Bogart and Bergman."

I sighed in bemused resignation.

We made our way over to the clerk's office to find Sam and Henry standing outside in deep conversation. A HQ driver was waiting nearby in an idling Jeep.

Sam looked up at me as we approached, a small smile curling over his lips. His expression hardened as he turned his gaze to Hawkeye and Trapper, regarding them with an imperious scowl.

"Doctors," he drawled slowly. "You'll be pleased to know that I've decided not to have you court-martialed."

Hawk grinned. "That's very kind of you, Colonel. I'm pleased that you've finally seen reason."

I reached behind me and furtively pinched him hard on his arm and he winced.

"Ow-er...what I meant to say was that we are grateful for your magnanimous understanding, Colonel," he corrected, casting me a suffering look.

"Yeah, Colonel," Trapper remarked glibly. "Lord knows we've been losing our beauty sleep over this."

Henry cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together cheerfully. "I'm just glad we could get this all sorted out, Colonel. I hope it will be a good long time before we see you again...er...I mean I hope we won't need you to...I mean I hope there won't be any more problems here that require your attention, sir."

Sam raised a brow at Henry and turned to me, his stern expression softening, the hard persona falling away. "On the contrary, Colonel" he said, gazing warmly into my eyes, "I anticipate that I'm going to be here on the regular from now on."

"Oh god..." Henry groaned.

"I've asked Lt. Y/L/N here to assist me with my investigations when I'm away," Sam continued. "I'll uh...expect a full report soon, lieutenant. Say this weekend in Tokyo?"

I smiled with comprehension and bit my lip. "Of course, sir. As long as that's okay with Colonel Blake."

Sam whipped his gaze back to Henry. "That gonna be a problem, Colonel?" he asked tersely.

"N-n-no sir," Henry said quickly. "Er...whatever you need, sir. Whenever you need her."

Sam turned back to me, a small secret smile on his lips. "Then I'll see you in Tokyo on Friday. I'll be looking forward to it, lieutenant," he said quietly.

"So will I, Colonel," I smiled and snapped him a coy salute.

He mirrored the salute and took a step forward, curling his hand behind my neck and pulling me into a hard passionate kiss. I made a small noise of surprise and then melted into him with a sigh. _My god this man can kiss..._

Silence fell heavily around me. I could only imagine the looks on Henry, Hawk, and Trap's faces.

Sam released me reluctantly, those molten blue eyes sparkling. He caressed my cheek gently. "I'll see you soon, sweetheart," he whispered.

"See you soon, Sam," I smiled.

He gave me one last quick kiss and climbed into the Jeep. I sighed wistfully and waved as it rumbled away down the road.

Henry looked utterly dumbfounded, shaking his head slowly. "Will somebody please explain to me just what the hell has been going on around here?"

Hawkeye grinned, shrugging his shoulders. "Just nature taking its course, Henry. You know, birds and bees and buttercups stuff."

"What?"

"Lt. Mata Hari here has found a little oasis of clandestine romance in the middle of the war zone."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. Henry goggled at Hawk a moment and closed his eyes in exasperation. "I don't want to know. Just keep me ignorant and happy please."

Trapper grinned. "Don't we always?"

"Well kids, it's been a helluva adventure," Hawkeye alternately slung an arm around Trapper's neck and mine and we headed back across camp. "I think we've earned a celebratory meal of sloppy powdered eggs and bacon a' la nausea."

"Gee, how could we resist," Trapper smirked. "I just hope we have some penicillin shots left for dessert."

"And speaking of pains in the keister," Hawk grinned. "You gonna be okay til Friday, Y/N? I'd hate for you to be pining for your Bogart the rest of the week."

I laughed. "I'll try my best to survive."

"Tell you what: Trap and I will attempt to be as humorless, paranoid and dictatorial as possible to ease the pain of separation."

"Aww, aren't you guys the sweetest."

"Hey, it's the least we could do," Trapper smiled. "I just love a happy ending don't you, Hawk?"

"That's right. To hell with Paris, Ilsa. We'll always have Korea."

*roll credits* The end. :)


End file.
